The Slow Burn
by Winterswild
Summary: The enemy of my enemy, is my friend? Goku isn't so sure and as Piccolo feels the pull of the past - he begins to fall, but Gohan won't stand idly by. The darkness is coming and the Z fighters are going to have to fight fire with fire.
1. The Better of Two Evils

The Slow Burn

It's been nearly 5 years, but i've decided that I need to finish this story. My life went up, down and back round - and I realised how much I love writing fanfiction and i've been inspired by some fabulous writing recently on

My original username was winterschild, but my email account has long since been deactivated so I am now writing as winterschild90. I have re-written this story, as my writing has changed (hopefully for the better) over the years. It is a complete re-write of my story of the name The Friction, and also the continuation.

Set post Buu, slightly AU. Goku is alive and i'm including the humans as I always loved them in DBZ. I refer to Piccolo's Sire as Daimao and King Piccolo, in this they are separate entities.

Warning: Swearing, violence and some horror.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or any of its characters.

Enjoy!

 **Chapter One -**

 **The better of two evils**

An awful sort of silence descended as Dende stood at the edge of the lookout. He frowned at the impending arrival of the Z senshi, some beginning to form tiny dots in the distance below. King Kai must have also contacted Goku, no doubt, and the little Kami's grip tightened around his staff as he recalled the rotund deity's warning, nasal voice ever present.

'It's been a millennia since it was last seen, and we couldn't even destroy it then'

Dende waited for the odd but wise being to continue.

'We have one option, and i'm sure you won't like it any better than I do, but you'll find out soon enough!'

He had explained, in vague detail, that there was something on its way. The creature's power was beyond anything that they had faced before. That all the Super Saiyans in the world wouldn't hold a candle to the being's dark ability to savage those around it, and would only inadvertently make it stronger. King Kai had told Dende of the great effort and war between it and the Kai's in ancient times, and how they had very nearly lost, but that he didn't know any more than that. The young Namekian was at a loss, King Kai managing to say everything and nothing all at once. He was roused from his musings as Gohan touched down, smiling fondly in his black trousers and carefully tucked in shirt, young Pan standing boldly at his side. Videl was wearing fighting garb, something which Dende had not seen since Buu.

Soon after, a spar weary Vegeta and Trunks landed, followed closely by Goku holding Chi-chi and Goten. Chi-chi was complaining loudly and Goten ran to Trunks. The sound of an air car whirred and an irate Bulma landed, jumping out and landing dramatically, short blue hair bobbing and already yelling, with Bra's little hand firmly grasped in her own.

"Come on Krillin, we don't have all day!"

Sheepish, Krillin jumped out with Eighteen, Marron, Tien and Yamcha. Last to arrive was Piccolo, cape billowing in the air as he landed softly, scowling and looking altogether beaten half to death. _Sparring with Vegeta again._ Gohan thought it odd that Piccolo should be the final addition, but was distracted by Dende walking over before he could give the thought any more attention.

"I'm glad you could all make it, I take it that King Kai contacted you as well Goku?"

The Saiyan laughed nervously and nodded in confirmation. Krillin then spoke up, fists clenched with an odd combination of excitement and apprehension.

"So what is it exactly? And when is it going to arrive?"

Dende looked at the smaller man, noting the cream linen shirt and trousers, he smiled internally, how human they all looked now.

"Approximately four days from now" he realised with a little curiosity that King Kai hadn't been as forthcoming to Goku. He opened his mouth to speak again but was abruptly cut off by Bulma's demanding tones.

"So what's the plan?"

"There...there isn't one. We have no chance of fighting it, King Kai said as much"

Bulma was immediately enraged.

"What do you mean?! There must be something-"

She was cut off by a delicate and familiar voice wandering towards them. All looked around, startled. Gohan noticed as Piccolo, now looking at least a little healed, tensed immediately. He felt the same tension as he groaned internally. _It's got to be bad if the Supreme Kai has showed up._

"There isn't any way you can destroy it, not exactly anyway"

Goku spoke then, unusually getting straight to the point.

"So what can we do then? And why is it heading to Earth?"

The Supreme Kai looked up to the Saiyan, his ear ring obnoxiously glinting in the light.

"We don't know exactly, I think it's drawn to power, but I can't be sure. The old scrolls don't tell us much" He paused before continuing. "We are working on a solution, though it isn't going exactly to plan unfortunately".

Piccolo interrupted then, deep tones rumbling in dissatisfaction. He walked to stand beside Gohan but winced as he crossed his arms, the injuries of the latest spar still stinging.

"Meaning?"

The Supreme Kai faltered then, filling the Z senshi with unease.

"We know of only two beings that have any possible chance of defeating this creature, though we're not certain that they will manage it"

Violet features grimaced as he continued, the Z senshi hanging onto his every word.

"These two beings, they're not exactly...on our side, so to speak, and neither do they want to be. One is dead and by your hand Goku, but we negotiated his revival for this purpose. We also had to make some difficult concessions to sweeten the deal, unfortunately."

Goku's confusion was evident in his voice, his mind was spinning through the catalogue of enemies he had killed.

"I don't understand, if they're not on our side then why would they even help us?" _And who is it?_

The Supreme Kai smiled "Well, we have made a trade. The other is known as Tazaka, a particularly heinous criminal on the run from galaxy authorities. We offered him a clean slate for his cooperation, for him and his associates. The other, demanded his youth, his power, his body and his freedom. You already know him as...King Piccolo." The small Kai uncharacteristically growled out the last part.

Goku blanched and stormed towards the tiny deity, ignoring the gasps of surprise from his friends and clenching his fists to punctuate his point.

"What?! You gave him back his body? He's evil! I killed him once already, I don't want to have to do it again!"

Piccolo watched with a pensive expression as the Saiyan shouted, with Vegeta scowling at his side. Unwanted memories that belonged to his Sire flickered in his mind's eye, images of death and destruction, of blood and fire and screaming echoing in his ears. He was a murderer, a Tyrant, a monster. _How can they be letting him go?._ He wondered then, if his Sire would first kill him as punishment for shunning his legacy, before butchering the others, saving Goku for last. The thought was unsettling and his throat dried up.

The Supreme Kai spoke then, to defend his decision.

"We don't have a choice Goku, they are our only hope. This creature, it power comes from darkness. They are the only ones who have a chance!"

"How?! I've killed one of them! He's not even that strong!" Goku's dark eyes were piercing.

"This creature...it feeds on good energy, on any goodness in anything, like a fuel. Even an echo of a kind thought or feeling is enough! That's why we need these two, there isn't a single ounce of goodness between them. The creature will not have the advantage" _We hope._

Krillin opened his mouth, but Yamcha's hand on his shoulder silenced him. He felt more than heard Yamcha's words. _Let Goku handle it._

Vegeta didn't care much for that sentiment, and demanded, voice seething.

"When do they arrive?"

"How about now?" Dark, sibilant tones startled the Z senshi into silence.

Chi-chi instinctively grabbed the young Goten and pushed him behind her. Piccolo marvelled at her bravery, the way her fear gave way to ferocious protection in the defence of her children. Keeping him safe from an enemy she couldn't see. Gohan looked around frantically, but he couldn't sense anything, before a cold chuckle laced up his spine and there, stood behind all of them, was someone he never thought he'd see. Piccolo knew the voice before he was even sure he'd heard it, the laughing only confirmed the chilling truth. He slowly turned to face his Sire.

Sharp white teeth grabbed his attention, then the jade skin which was pulled around them in some sickly smirk. Gohan frowned, dark eyes that reminded him so much of his mentor, yet so little, pierced him as he stared. He was tall, taller than Piccolo even, his frame clad in some kind of dark shirt and trousers, shirt sleeves rolled up, all black. There was something on his shirt, glistening slightly and the demi Saiyan thought it might be blood. The smell of sweet tobacco filled his nostrils and he wrinkled them in displeasure, noticing the cigarette clasped between two long green fingers. The old Namek stared at Gohan with distaste, with narrow eyes unlike Piccolo's wide ones.

Goku stepped forward then, glancing nervously to his right as a knot grew tight in his stomach. Piccolo had unfolded his arms and was stood rigid, quiet surprise wrought on his features. The dark deeds this man had done filtered through Piccolo like ice cold water. He hadn't imagined that he'd have to face his Sire, and he wasn't ready for it. He felt his own claws pierce is skin as his fists tightened. Goku blinked in short lived sympathy, he hadn't seen Piccolo look like this since the arrival of the Androids, and it made his stomach sink.

Deep sibilant tones spoke then, as Daimao peered at his nemesis, all menace.

"I'd say that i'm pleased to see you Goku, but we'd both know that i'm lying" He spat the word Goku.

"Same to you"

Goku tried to keep the Namek's attention, not wanting him to start taunting his friends. The feeling he had when he was a boy, scared and angry, was back in his system. _Like old times._

He narrowed his eyes as the man smoked his cigarette, this Piccolo was so much the same but so different. He had a feeling his power had increased considerably, and he was calm. So much calmer than the King Piccolo he had killed. Still posturing but calm, and calculated. The deep voice raked over him.

"I see you've made yourself a little family" Dark eyes dragged over Chi-chi, Gohan and Goten, "how sweet".

He then allowed his gaze to linger over Piccolo, making the younger Namek's insides turn. His hand flinched under the scrutiny and he swore internally. He was already exhausted from sparring, aching from being repeatedly hit, and bitter from being beaten. Now he could add exposed to the list of feelings he didn't want today. It was only a moment but his heartbeat quickened and he was sure that he sighed in relief when Daimao finally looked elsewhere. Piccolo felt anger rise like bile in the back of his throat. _Asshole._

The dark Namekian chuckled then, and Piccolo bared his teeth. The Supreme Kai intervened.

"It will be arriving in 4 days, give or take"

Daimao blinked and looked down and scoffed in disrespect.

"What is?"

The little Kai scowled.

"The Hatu" the name still sounded foreign to Dende as he looked on in silence, and worry.

"Why would I care when it's arriving?"

Vegeta then stepped in, unable to contain himself any longer.

"Stop wasting time Namek! And tell us your plan!" He walked in front of Goku, tired of the third class Saiyan's inaction. He blanched when he was totally ignored and the Supreme Kai continued.

"You're going to fight. Stop pretending that you don't know what i'm talking about _Piccolo_ "

Gohan looked at Piccolo then, and noticed that his mentor hadn't reacted. At least externally.

The taller Namek walked towards the Supreme Kai then, dangerous tones hissing as he addressed the small deity.

"You know as well as I do that I have absolutely no intention of fighting that thing, or helping these...useless humans"

"Then the agreement's off"

"Oh? And what are you going to do? Rip my soul from my body and send me back?"

"Exactly"

"Go ahead" Daimao stretched out the last word in mockery. The Supreme Kai looked on, barely contained dismay.

Krillin watched, waiting for nearly 30 seconds and couldn't handle the silence any longer.

"Nothing's happening!"

The Namek then turned towards Goku, smiling in victory and the Saiyan noticed the veins in his arm looked dark, like his very blood was evil. Like he was corrupt. He looked at Piccolo, his arms green and pink, full of life. He briefly marvelled at his once sworn enemy, the difference in the two was staggering. They were interrupted as several energy signals caught the attention of most the Z fighters.

Eighteen immediately went and grabbed Marron, who was sitting oblivious and unnervingly close to the edge of the Lookout. Her sharp blue eyes stared upwards, determined, as the figures approached. She walked back, and heard the Z senshi talking in hushed whispers before four people touched down. Piccolo narrowed his eyes and noticed the matching outfits, he rolled his eyes in waning patience. _Great, another Ginyu force._

One of them stepped forward, the leader, Piccolo supposed. His unruly black hair reminded him of a twelve year old Gohan but he was at least as tall as Goku, if not taller. He raised an eye ridge as they moved towards them. _This must be Azaka._

Folds of blue layers shifted, straps holding weapons creaking as he came to a stop. Two men stood to his right, one blonde and one dark, and a woman to his left, tall with pale blue hair. They seemed disinterested, or stupid, Piccolo figured perhaps a combination of both. He walked forward and stood next to Goku and the Supreme Kai, leaving Gohan behind. Something in his mind told him to stay back with his student but he ignored it. He wasn't about to be intimidated, not by his Sire and certainly not by this motley crew. His onyx eyes flickered to Goku, and the Saiyan offered him a small smile in return.

A clear, educated voice spoke then, singling out the purple Kai.

"Where is it then? I've got somewhere to be"

The Supreme Kai tried to swallow his disdain, he was growing tired of these antics. He knew that they would be difficult, but he felt that this was too much.

"Four days" He thought about leaving them to it then when Azaka spoke then to Daimao, sparking his interest.

"Well, well, well. Look who crawled out from the depths of hell. Didn't think i'd see you here"

Daimao exhaled smoke and answered slowly and with little interest.

"I figured you were still alive, since I didn't see you down there"

Azaka smiled "You're looking pretty good for a dead man"

"So are you" Daimao's words were laced with threat and the other man laughed under his breath before speaking to the Kai, without looking at him.

"Four days. If i'd have known I would have waited"

The older Namekian then turned, losing interest, he walked straight towards Chi-chi, who's big brown eyes widened in fear and defiance.

"I'll see you in hell then, eventually. Excuse me _darling_ "

Chichi was sure she could feel the wisps of evil as they brushed her, she winced but stood her ground. Daimao briefly contemplated snapping her neck, a tantalising vision of her chestnut eyes welling up with fear as he killed her. He pushed the thought down.

Azaka then seemed to lose his composure as he raised his voice, accent showing.

"Where are you going?!"

Daimao ignored him, sauntering away. Azaka's fingers wound around his gun as he spoke, all feigned kindness gone.

"I said, where are you going?"

Piccolo uncrossed his arms, feeling the tension build even more, bracing himself for a fight. Azaka tried again, this time pulling the gun from its holster.

"I've got a free run if we kill this thing, do you think i'm going to give that up because you can't be fucked to fight?"

The older Namek chuckled, but stopped for a moment when the click of a gun hammer tapped his eardrums. He turned in curiosity.

The tanned arm was tense with muscle as he held the gun firmly to Piccolo's head, cold metal digging into jade flesh. A dark look was now pooling in the alien's dark blue eyes. Piccolo tried ignored the sensation as he quickly tried to ascertain if a gunshot could kill him. A human gun wouldn't, but Azaka wasn't human. He leaned away from the pressure but stood defiant, jaw set. _How did he know that I am his son?_

The whole Z senshi held its breath and Bulma whipped one hand to her painted lips, the other going to her side, where she had stowed a gun of her own. She knew it wouldn't kill him, or really any of them, but she was not a quitter.

Gohan spoke then, reigning in panic.

"You don't really think a bullet can kill him do you Azaka?"

Azaka grinned. "Call me Zak" Gohan frowned and Zak chuckled, not taking his bold eyes off the older Namek "and i'm willing to be it will. I don't joke with my money, child".

Piccolo swallowed, not relishing the thought of a bullet in his head. He wanted to die in battle, not like this. Not standing still, being baited by a man arguing with his Sire. He shifted, muscles flexing and ready to attack. He would not go down quietly.

Gohan looked at Piccolo, eyes stern but showing the fear there. He didn't want to lose his friend.

Daimao took another drag of his cigarette and threw it onto the tiles, looking altogether completely disinterested. With a brow ridge risen in badly disguised amusement, his silence spoke volumes of all the fucks he gave.

"Go ahead, save me the trouble"

Goku twitched, not sure if the bullet would be fatal. He flexed his fingers, trying to judge the distance. _Can I get there?_

"You'd really stand by whilst I kill your son?"

Daimao smirked. "They didn't hire us for our kind, loving nature...did they?"

Zak laughed then, genuinely, but with dead eyes. "You're right, who am I kidding?"

Gohan's heart climbed up his throat.

The laughter stopped. Zak pulled the trigger.

 **Let me know what you think!**


	2. The enemy of my enemy, is still my enemy

**The Slow Burn**

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z or any of its characters

I should mention this is non-canon!

Warning: VIolence & Swearing

 **Chapter two -**

 **The enemy of my enemy, is still my enemy**

The resounding gunshot hammered against Gohan's ear drums. He turned his head around slowly whilst his mind raced. _No._

He paused, not understanding when he looked into two equally surprised onyx eyes. The bullet bounced, flinging itself back towards Zak, where it then burned with some internal energy before disappearing. Piccolo blinked at the Chi shield that flickered red in front of his eyes, as it stood between himself and Zak. The mercenary looked to his right, a thick eyebrow raising in curiosity at at Daimao's outstretched hand.

Piccolo felt beads of perspiration cool on his skin as he exhaled the breath he didn't know he was holding. The Chi shield in front of him felt unhealthy and dark as it wavered and dissipated. He looked to his Sire and confusion bubbled away in his senses. _I thought the link was only with Kami?_

Daimao dropped his hand, face adorning the same emotion he had felt since he arrived, contempt; in its most pure and unrelenting form. A tiny unfamiliar feeling pulsed away in his chest but he ignored it. _I'm afraid I can't let you kill any my pawns, mercenary._

Zak started laughing, a deep and throaty chuckle as he spoke.

"Looks like you have a heart after all!...the Hatu is going to eat. You. Right. Up"

He took a step forward with each word but stopped when Krillin exclaimed, with fists balled tight and sweat on his forehead.

"It's not that you idiot! They're linked, if you kill Piccolo, he dies as well!"

Gohan swore internally. _Way to go Krillin, make it easy for him why don't you?_

Daimao looked at Krillin with no small amount of anger and Gohan figured he'd be furious now that his apparent weakness was exposed. He snarled, fangs bared and raised his hand. A small red chi ball was forming in his palm.

"I will fucking kill you!"

Goku stepped in Daimao's line of sight, holding his hands up in panicked mock surrender.

"Hang on-"

The words died on his lips as he dodged, a green fist brushing his cheekbone as he did. Swinging around, he blocked a second punch but then choked as Daimao's fingers closed around his throat, claws digging grooves into his skin. The sharp smell of Goku's blood made the Namekian growl with pleasure in the back of his throat.

"You can't know how long I've wanted this" his grip tightened "it would be a thrill" he breathed into Goku's face "to end you".

He threw Goku to the ground, a little too easily and white tile cracked as he landed. A part of him was dimly aware that the do gooder's many minions would intervene soon, and they didn't seem to be the amateurish gaggle they once were.

Bulma narrowed her large blue eyes as she looked at the Demon King, jaw clenching. _That's the Piccolo I remember._ She had thought that he had seemed too calm, a little too collected. _Looks like the act is over._

The Supreme Kai intervened then, losing patience.

"Enough! If we're going to have a hope of destroying this thing, we need to start preparing now! Follow me." He bellowed as if his lungs weren't the same size as a child's and stormed into the palace. Daimao crossed his arms then, black fabric taught against muscle as he scowled, trying to reign in his temper. He reminded himself that he had a plan for Goku, and this wasn't it.

The Z senshi began to file into the palace, Krillin nervously half jogging by the ancient Namek. Chi-chi's dark eyes looked at him with pure hatred and as she walked confidently, head held high. Daimao smirked, the woman always did have spunk.

Piccolo waited for Goku, before the both of them started to follow, leaving Daimao and the gang of criminals still standing outside. Piccolo glanced at Goku, seeing his pensive expression and wondered if it mirrored his own. They both stopped, when they realised that their newest additions hadn't moved.

Goku beckoned expectantly, whilst Piccolo crossed his arms just within the palace entrance. Zak was incredulous.

"You are joking"

His distaste was evident in his features and he glanced at his companions. The woman shrugged and her voice was smooth when she responded, brushing pale blue hair from her face.

"Looks like we're going to have to work together" She smiled. _Besides, we might need the canon fodder._

Zak rolled his eyes in irritation and nodded for them to enter. Their boots sounded heavy against the quiet of the Lookout. Daimao followed them slowly. Sharing a look with Zak as they walked almost side by side. Piccolo caught it, he didn't know what that look meant, but he didn't like it. Daimao was mulling over this temporary truce, if that's what it was. He would like nothing better than to...but he couldn't, shouldn't. He wasn't interested in ruling a world with no people, or a universe with no worlds. Soon, once the Hatu has done its damage, he would be rid of Goku, and once the Hatu was gone, everything would fall into place. Zak looked at him and smirked, he smiled back, but there was no humour or kindness in it.

A few minutes later, they were all assembled around an old stone oblong table, in a room that at one time may have been a place of strategy, for ancient wars and disputes. Bulma felt at home then and stood at the head of the table, calling everyone's attention in an effort to coordinate the rabble. Eventually, most people sat down, with the exception of Zak, Daimao and Piccolo of course. The bandits were seated together at the end, and Videl sighed as she sat down next to one of them. She wasn't scared, not really, she was too stunned to be. She looked at Gohan who sat opposite, but this wasn't the Gohan she knew. He was tense, irritated and...scared. _If he's scared, I should be terrified._

Krillin sat with Eighteen, Goku with Ch-chi and Tien, Chiaotzu, Master Roshi and an anxious Oolong. Mr Popo had kindly taken Trunks, Goten and Marron to another room in the palace to look after them, they didn't need to be involved in such dark things. Dende sat with Yajirobe and Korin opposite Vegeta and the Son family. Gohan wasn't too pleased with Videl sat next to one of the mercenaries but he doubted anyone would make a move in here. The blonde criminal smiled at him, as if knowing what he was thinking, brown eyes glinting in glee. The demi Saiyan took an instant dislike.

Piccolo looked at them as well, noticing the tension in his student's composure, who was sat directly in front of him. They seemed to have an air of detachment and they weren't like their typical enemies. They didn't seem to care much about anything, like all this was nothing more than an elaborate game designed to amuse them. The blonde looked at him then, thick hair held back by goggles, upbeat nature no doubt misleading. The woman, who was sat to his right on a stone bench, crossed long legs and pale grey eyes bore into Piccolo as he glances in her direction. The other one, sat at the end of the table, was motionless with narrow eyes and a strong jaw. He had been silent throughout and Piccolo wondered if he might be one to watch out for. _Not that they won't all betray us and then kill us._

He was acutely aware of his Sire, who was stood against the opposite wall, unnervingly close to Goku and Chi-chi. He didn't look at him, not out of fear, but rather out of an inability to deal with the reality of his very existence. There was a time when he thought he _was_ his Sire, so it was a little confronting. Bulma's assertive voice demanded attention as she spoke.

"Right, what's the plan?"

The Supreme Kai answered "when it arrives, it will probably attack the largest populations first, so we'll have to catch it or get its attention as it comes through the atmosphere if we want to avoid a high body count".

Zak laughed, the jovial tone a contrast to the seriousness of the situation.

"And why would we want to avoid that?"

Daimao smirked at that and pulled out another cigarette, a habit he had picked up on Earth a long time ago. Standing there, quietly next to the very people he yearned to destroy was not sitting well with him but he had centuries worth of practice waiting. _Just a little longer._

"What would you gain from letting it destroy everyone first, exactly?" Goku asked.

"Oh I don't know...a little peace and quiet I suppose" his female companion laughed at that.

The Kai frowned, but ignored him.

"It does have a humanoid form, so you should be able to engage it in battle. It feeds on good energy, literally, by touch usually. So the rest of you will have to be well clear. I can provide...a type of shield that will keep pure evil at bay, but only for a while".

Piccolo scowled. _What shield? Why is he just mentioning this now?_

The Supreme Kai seemed to read his thoughts and continued.

"It only works with pure evil, not egomaniacs and power hungry tyrants. It's hard to believe but they still have thoughts and feelings outside of their evil doing". He looked pointedly at Vegeta who scowled in return. The little Kai looked at the mercenaries.

"I need to make it clear. If there is any good in any of you, even in the deepest part of you, it will find it."

The bandits laughed between themselves. Daimao answered then.

"I sincerely doubt that there's anything to find". He smirked and looked towards his offspring, willing ebony eyes to look in his direction. _Look at me you little shit._

His disappointment in his son had been incredible, but as the years went on, his urge to murder him on sight had morphed into a different desire. A different kind of vengeance. He inhaled the heady tobacco. _It's going to be so sweet._

Zak was countering the deity at every turn.

"And what if it kills his son? Are we able to fight this thing on our own?"

"I don't know, but I wouldn't worry about that". He didn't elaborate.

Goku was confused. "Wait, I don't und-"

"It's not important, we don't have time to dwell on every unlikely scenario. Now, work together, you don't have time to waste. I have other matters to attend to".

With that, he vanished, leaving Goku to wonder what other matters could possibly take precedence over this. Goku turned to address Zak, his tone darkening as it usually did for his enemies.

"Okay, Zak, do you and your team have much fighting experience?"

"No, my victims usually die of fear"

Goku hesitated and he winced when he heard Piccolo growl out.

"If you're not going to take this seriously-"

Goku interrupted then, standing.

"Okay, okay. Now, we know you can fight Daimao. Hope you're not too rusty". He laughed nervously, hand rubbing the back of his head.

Daimao scowled, not looking unlike Piccolo. Goku had felt Daimao's power when he had raised that Chi shield. He had gotten stronger, or was drawing power from somewhere. The older Namekian's tones were deep and icy as he answered.

"It's not going to fight on our level, you moron. Our methods will likely be obsolete. Power is what we need".

Piccolo's patience had finally run out, and he walked forward to the edge of the table, facing is Sire and hissing out his words. The eye contact made his skin prickle.

"I've had enough of this bullshit, can you kill it or not?"

The room went quiet.

"I hope so, it would be quite hard to build an empire out of only dead bodies...wouldn't it?"

Piccolo slammed a fist into the stone table, it cracked under his fist. Gohan tensed, and the more scholarly part of him wondered how ancient the now broken table was.

"Will you shut the fuck up about your damn empire! Can you kill it? Or not?!"

The anger in Piccolo's soul was building, not only because of the Hatu, but because this felt personal. Images of said empire, people burning and cities crumbling, flashed across his mind.

"I don't know".

The answer was so curt and emotionless. Daimao then smiled, it was humourless and something else. Gohan couldn't even determine what as he looked on. The table was humming in hushed conversations as everyone then voiced their concerns.

Daimao inhaled through the cigarette filter. These were very different to the ones he had smoked in space, more pleasant. The Kai's had revived him but hadn't given him much more grace than that, as they brought him crashing back to the living world in the middle of space, on an unknown planet. He had stolen a ship, killed its crew, and headed straight for Earth. He had actually been travelling for 6 months or more and was surprised that the Kai's had cut it so close. He had wondered why, before remembering that he didn't care. He had been deprived of what he considered to be a moderate stay in HFIL, and instead imprisoned in a very different place. Where the inmates were of an evil so pure and relentless that at times Daimao had felt out-eviled. His punishment had been an extended stay. He had been dead for only 30 years or so, but for him it had been centuries.

Time, had been his punishment. Oh, and an unwanted companion. Some kind of demonic creature haunting him in the form of a little girl. A little girl he had mercilessly murdered years ago. When the Kai's had offered him a way out, he had bitten their hand off.

Piccolo exhaled loudly and walked away, cape fluttering as he went. He was outraged that they were having to rely on this group of lowlives to save them. Vegeta watched on in sympathy, the same feelings of being taken for a ride making him itch for violence. It's at times like this that he and the Namek saw eye to eye. Though not literally, of course. He looked at Daimao then, noting the difference in the two Namekians. Goku had said their fighting styles were similar and they were effectively the same person. He was wrong though, Vegeta could plainly see that the older Namek was slightly taller, broader, and his jaw wider. Piccolo's more delicate features were not evident on Daimao and Vegeta laughed at himself internally. _Delicate, the Namek is anything but._

There was also the fact that Piccolo didn't make his skin crawl, but Daimao did.

Goku spoke then, voice ever cheerful.

"We better get started then, we don't exactly have time on our side! Dende, I hope you don't mind?"

Dende nodded in approval, though his young features betrayed his concern. Deep concern. This whole situation felt wrong and aside from the obvious reasons why, there was something else, something he couldn't put his finger on. There was a badness in the air.

"Of course Goku, I'll go to the library, maybe there is something I can find about the Hatu"

Daimao pushed off the wall, skin itching to get away from the humans. He felt like they were insects milling away beneath his feet. He was halted by Zak's heavy tanned hand landing on his shoulder.

"Right then, let's see what you've got old man"

He froze at the contact, not enjoying the warmth of the other man's hand thrumming through his fingertips. At this proximity, Zak could see the darkness that seemed to be underneath the Namek's skin, in his blood. The mercenary knew he was making Daimao uncomfortable, they were well acquainted after all. He missed their twisted friendship. The Namek had been so young when they first met.

Piccolo had left the group to stand at the window, which was actually just an elegantly carved circle in the wall. The mercenaries left the room with Daimao, Vegeta and Eighteen. Piccolo figured that it made sense, they would be least likely to be affected emotionally at this point. Gohan walked up to his mentor, his shirt was horribly creased and he attempted to straighten it before raising a hand to his mentor's arm. He let it fall though, sensing it wouldn't be welcome. His voice was quiet.

"We can't trust them can we?"

"Absolutely not"

"But we have to, right?"

Piccolo growled and looked at the younger man.

"I guess so, but don't hedge your bets on those assholes being our saviour kid"

They could hear the sounds of Zak and Vegeta fighting as they went outside. Zak was holding his own, though seemed to be used to a different kind of fight. One with guns. Daimao was stood with crossed arms and a pensive expression. Gohan was taken aback with how much he looked like Piccolo at that very moment.

Daimao looked at him then and to Gohan's dismay, walked over.

"So this is the little monkey spawn the idiot conceived?"

He frowned and felt Piccolo tense next to him. He cursed internally as one of the mercenaries joined them. The woman was tall, he noticed as she stood almost as tall as Daimao. Her even features were unremarkable but Gohan noticed that her eyes were striking. A deep emptiness sat in their grey depths. Painted rouge lips smirked as she addressed the Demon King.

"So this is your son Daimao? He's cute, i'm...surprised"

She looked at Piccolo and smiled, displaying an array of straight white teeth. Gohan could see Daimao adopt a look of poorly disguised displeasure and a hint of something else he couldn't identify. When she spoke again, he recognised the look.

"I look forward to getting to know you better" she stepped forward and put a gloved finger on Piccolo's chest "right before I kill you. I wonder if you're a screamer?"

Daimao's whole frame became wrought with tension and his eyes betrayed his anger. Gohan hesitated. _Does he care?_ He dismissed the thought as quickly as it had come. His father had told him of King Piccolo's reign of destruction and terror, of an innate ability to maim and torture his victims. She also noticed Daimao's changing demeanor.

"If you don't kill him first that is"

Daimao didn't respond but his hatred of this woman was obvious. Gohan narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He looked towards his father, and with a nod to signal to Piccolo that he would be right back, walked over to Goku.

He leaned towards his father and spoke quietly, making sure that Namekian ears couldn't hear him.

"There's something wrong with Daimao"

Goku laughed.

"That's an understatement"

"No, I mean. He hates us, you, Piccolo...but he hasn't attempted to hurt any of us and correct me if i'm wrong but...he's hanging around Piccolo like a-"

"Vulture?"

"Like he won't let Piccolo out of his sight"

Goku moved closer to Gohan, making sure that Daimao still couldn't hear them.

"You think he's hiding something?"

They were interrupted by King Kai and Goku was hopeful that the blue deity had something useful to add. Gohan looked on patiently as King Kai spoke to Goku telepathically.

' _Goku! How is it going?'_

' _Badly King Kai, these mercenaries - i'm not even sure they can fight. And King Piccolo - well. He's being unhelpful so far'_

' _I see. Well, don't despair. Azaka was chosen for a reason, there are plenty of other evildoers the Kai's could have raised or employed, but they chose him. As for Daimao, I imagine he plans to kill you in the end. Be careful_

Goku had figured out that much on his own.

' _At least he won't kill Piccolo. But if he wants me dead, why not just try now?'_

King Kai faltered then, confused.

' _Uh...why wouldn't he kill Piccolo?'_

' _They're linked remember?'_

He winced at King Kai's nasal laughter through the mental link.

' _They're not. That no longer exists since Piccolo fused with Kami. How shall I put it...the scales are even'_

Confusion was evident on Goku's face.

' _What? Then why did he-'_

" _Save Piccolo? You'd have to ask him!'_

The rotund blue man laughed again, severing the connection. Goku was irritated. _Guess I know what he's been hiding._

Knowing Daimao as he did, and he did have quite the insight, he did know that paternal love was not the reason he had stopped that bullet. _No, it goes much deeper than that._ Goku promised himself that he would find out exactly how deep, before Daimao had a chance to implement whatever twisted plan he had in mind.

 **Until next time! Please R &R :)**


	3. Where it all began

**The Slow Burn**

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z or any of its characters

Warning: VIolence & Swearing

It's about to get dark folks, let the horror begin!

 **Chapter 3**

 **Where It All Began**

Gohan had stood for an hour with arms crossed and a scowl etched deep onto his young features, unknowingly imitating his mentor. Vegeta had floored Zak in half that time and Gohan realised, with some irritation, that this was the first time he'd been rooting for the enemy. The Prince had driven several punches into the mercenary's stomach before delivering a swift but powerful kick into his broad chest. Zak would need to improve tenfold before he could match Vegeta, and as far as they all knew, he would then need to be twice as good. The demi saiyan frowned, was he really hoping this hardened criminal, this professional murderer, would become stronger than all of them? Once they killed the Hatu, would he turn on them? He glanced at Daimao and felt his heart beat slow down in misery. He would definitely turn on them, it was just a matter of if it was going to be before the enemy arrived, or afterwards. He walked towards Dende, he was stood with the rest of the Z senshi, who were speaking in hushed, anxious tones. His little friend wore worry lines deeper than his age should allow. He spared a small smile for his old friend.

The other mercenaries were stood a few metres ahead of them, mostly in silence except the odd spike of shallow laughter. _We're making such progress_ , Gohan's mind droned sarcastically. From his periphery, he could see Eighteen's cool glance and he could see the well hidden concern there. The same concern that was mirrored in all of their eyes that evening, that familiar sense of dread. _Aren't we used to it by now?_

He turned towards the guardian, questioning the younger man.

"Dende...if we've only got four days, shouldn't we be using the time chamber?"

Dende hesitated before answering.

"Piccolo already suggested that but they...refused"

"What?! Why?"

The young Namek's fingers tapped nervously against his staff.

"Once I explained the concept, they didn't seem inclined to file into another dimension, where they might be trapped if we...destroyed the door" Dende looked sheepish.

"You told them that? Well no wonder, how are we ever going to train them in time?" Gohan's tone was incredulous but he composed himself quickly as he continued.

"Okay, so no time chamber. Then what's our plan?"

Bulma's confident tones answered his question, keen blue eyes always determined. Her unending perseverance in the face of failure was something he had come to rely on over the years.

"Who said Zak's the strongest? Just because he's their leader? They probably work better as a team, we should see them fight as a whole. Plus. I don't want to be the one to say it, but someone's go to. We need to see how strong Daimao is"

Gohan nodded mutely, she had a point. She always did. Piccolo had opened his eyes from his position leaning against a stone pillar, at the mention of his Sire's name. Onyx pupils narrowed in, and Gohan could see that agreement was not written there. He opened his mouth to speak to his mentor, but was cut off when Daimao appeared. Dark fabric rustled as he deliberately stopped just next to Gohan and spared an empty look in his direction. He felt his skin prickle and he involuntarily swallowed. Piccolo bristled at his Sire's proximity to his friend, but it was short lived as Daimao continued his journey towards his own son. Piccolo narrowed his eyes and the whole group held their breath, in case he turned around and blasted them all on his way.

As Daimao walked, he felt the heat of Gohan's skin as he passed by. He thought of how quickly he could reach out, grab his neck, and snap it. How sweet the feeling would be when the life poured out of him. The look of horror on Goku's face and the sorrow that would consume his own spawn. He snarled inside when he thought of Piccolo's allegiance with the son of his sworn enemy. Throwing away his legacy to befriend that creature's worthless offspring. How disgusting it was. _Ungrateful little wretch._

The only consolation was that he could use this abhorrent relationship to his advantage. He smirked. _Time to get things rolling._ Before he could reach his surly young son, however, Chi-chi stormed in front of him. She stood defiant, one hand on her hips and one finger pointed directly at him. A steely determination swam in her big brown eyes and he could see the fear there, and to his surprise, he could see strength too.

"Look here Mister! You can't just walk around here like you're King of the-"

Her words came to an abrupt halt as a jade hand closed tightly around her throat. Goku was there the instant he had heard his wife's shrill ranting, but he had stopped just short with fists clenched. His tone was clear and crisp, menacing but kind, it made Daimao raise a brow.

"Let her go"

Piccolo had uncrossed his arms and stepped forward, he could see the look of shock on his student's face. There was no chance that either of them would make it before Daimao snapped her neck and he felt his own breath slow down. He had known, more than anyone else, what a monster his Sire was but it was sobering to see a live demonstration. Goku's eyes were wide with fear and, if Piccolo was reading them right, helplessness. It's how he had looked on Namek. He could see that they all felt it, Vegeta, Eighteen, Krillin, Bulma, even Yamucha and Tien. They all looked on with mixed emotion.

Daimao stared into the woman's eyes, enjoying the terror swirling around there. Her breath was coming in gasps, chest heaving, heart thumping. It was intoxicating. He ignored the Saiyan's cry a second time.

"I said, let her go!"

His hold remained tight and Daimao watched as her cheeks darkened at the exertion of her desperate movements. Her feet were hovering and kicking where he had lifted her off the floor and her mind screamed for someone to intervene, but no one did. Her vision was starting to go grey and a part of her knew that their interference would only quicken her death, but the need to breathe was stronger than her understanding. She was clawing at his jade wrists, peeling tiny canyons in his skin, filling them with purple blood, but it was no use. _Let me go!_

Chi-chi groaned in relief when Piccolo placed a strong hand on his Sire's forearm and squeezed, a warning. Goku had been about to leap and rip the man's hand from his wife's throat, calculating the precise speed and angle he would need to make sure he got there before the Demon decided to close the deal. He had faltered when Piccolo had stepped up and just placed a hand on his arm. The thought that Piccolo may have fucked up his only chance of saving Chi-chi did cross his mind but he quelled it. He trusted Piccolo.

Daimao turned to look at his son and at this proximity, it sent an unpleasant jolt of delayed recognition through Piccolo. He was a mocking distortion of his own image. At this range, he could see what passed for emotion in his Sire's eyes and in them was something that surprised him; conflict. He recognised it because he knew that feeling, all too well. The desire, the need to kill, but trying not to. Piccolo wasn't sure exactly why Daimao holding himself back but there was no time to ponder it, he had to make him let her go.

Daimao found himself unable to look away from his son's eyes, and belatedly realised that it was a mistake. This close, he could hear the boy's heartbeat and could smell the forest on his skin. It was distracting, he was hyper aware of the very breath his son was holding and he just couldn't ignore it. Even Chi-chi's writhing had faded into the background. Piccolo's hand tightened on his arm, and Daimao felt it bruise. This was not a part of his plan and neither was killing this woman. To his irritation, the satisfaction he had expected from draining her life was lacking. An emptiness had filled him as he watched her struggle and he scowled at himself, where was the exhilaration he had dreamed of?

After a few unbearable seconds, he let go. Chi-chi dropped but Goku caught her, cupping her face in a desperate hope that she was alright. Dazed eyes looked up at him and she managed to cough and splutter back into a relatively normal rhythm of breathing. Gohan darted to his father's side, sparing a quick glance at Goten to stay put. Out of danger. Daimao's arm was pulled back but Piccolo didn't let it go, the older Namek looked down at the slightly lighter shade of jade. _I should have just killed her anyway._

Piccolo threw the Z-senshi a warning glance, a non verbal request for them to leave and let him deal with the loose canon of a Sire he still held in his grasp. Not releasing his hold until everyone had moved, he watched as they backed away to the other side of the palace and looked on with concern. Goku carried Chi chi, Gohan giving Piccolo a nod as he went. Zak and his team looked on from afar, though there was no concern, only amusement. They hadn't tried to intervene.

Distracted, Piccolo gasped as his Sire twisted his arm and dug his talons into his bicep, forcing the younger man to let go. Piccolo didn't have time to berate himself for letting down his guard, before Daimao bent Piccolo's arm behind his back and turned him around, pulling the younger Namek towards him. Piccolo's back was flush against Daimao's chest, his arm painfully pinned in between them. He tried to lean away as Daimao hissed into his left ear, but he couldn't gain more than an inch. His hold was cast iron.

"What are you playing at boy?"

Piccolo remained silent but bit back a moan as Daimao twisted his arm further, and as he felt his shoulder trying to dislocate, he answered.

"You were going to kill her"

"What do you care? Don't tell me that you care for that human!"

"You can't just kill innocent people." Piccolo's words were laced with loathing.

Daimao smiled and Piccolo felt it against the skin of his ear. It made his stomach turn.

"I think you'll find that I can, and will, whenever I choose to"

Calming himself, Piccolo decided to take a different tact, appealing to his Sire's better side was clearly a lost cause.

"This is not the time or the place, we have to concentrate on defeating that thing when it gets here" he spoke through gritted teeth "not attack defenceless women who don't know when to shut up"

He wriggled as he tried to free his right arm and he could see Gohan looking on in the distance. Krillin cast Gohan a worried glance, hoping that the young man wouldn't intervene unless he really had to. He wondered if they'd even last four days, they could barely get through half of one.

Daimao paused before replying, and Piccolo felt something unpleasant probe his mind and he squirmed, it felt sickly familiar.

"Do you really think _any_ of us are even able able to kill that thing?"

Piccolo turned his head slightly to the left, for once wanting to hear what his Sire had to say.

"What do you mean?"

"It has devoured planet after planet, even the Kai's are sweating in fear, and the only hope this universe has is a bunch of gun wielding bandits and myself?

Piccolo hated that he had a point.

"I guess we'll just have to make do"

"I think not. In fact, I have every suspicion that they're hoping it won't try to fight us at all"

This line of talk wasn't making any sense to Piccolo, though he had stopped struggling to listen. He noticed that Daimao had loosened his grip just enough to ease the pain a little and through the relief, Piccolo wondered if he had even realised.

"And what happens then? If it doesn't fight you?"

He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. He could feel the other man's breath on his ear, its warmth a heavy reminder that his Sire was very much alive.

"It devours us, and with any luck, we're poison enough to kill it"

Piccolo widened his eyes at that and turned away, not wanting the surprise to be evident on his face. If this were even slightly true, that their survival lies in the hope of the creature accidentally eating them, they were in trouble.

His father spun him around so that they were face to face and Piccolo grimaced but didn't lean back. He had expected to see hatred in the older man's eyes but whatever was there he couldn't identify it.

"I'm not playing cannon fodder, so that _you_ can live"

Piccolo growled, baring his fangs. It amused his Daimao, who smirked at the young man's display of displeasure. _You could have been something great._ How he had resented his offspring, nursing his distaste and fury for a long time. The boy's betrayal laid heavy in his dark heart as he wasted time in the afterlife and he had expected to be so filled with rage at the sight of him. A risk he couldn't afford and training his own temper had been hard work. He hadn't wanted to inadvertently kill him, that would just be far too quick and easy. On the contrary though, he felt loathing and disappointment, but the rage was conspicuously absent. Piccolo growled as he spoke.

"So you're going to run away? It will only spread. Soon there will be nothing left."

Daimao answered in an inappropriately upbeat manner.

"What do you suggest? That I sacrifice myself?"

Piccolo watched him raise an eyebrow and wondered why he had ever even entertained this ridiculous saviour notion.

"You _can_ fight it, you have to."

He wasn't too thrilled to hear the hint of pleading in his own voice but he was quickly running out of options, and patience. His Sire seemed to think for a moment as he turned his head to the all the eyes that were glued onto them from afar.

"If I fight it, it's because it suits me. Not to extend any of your companion's pathetic lifespans." He spat the last part.

"So you'll do it?" Piccolo spoke too quickly and he cursed himself. _Play right into his hands why don't you._

Daimao stepped forward, dark eyes glinting in their empty way. The smell of sweet tobacco made Piccolo's nostrils wrinkle and Daimao lit another cigarette.

"I'll do it on one condition."

Piccolo hesitated. There was no outcome that would be favourable here.

"What condition?"

His Sire then raised a taloned hand and stroked his son's cheek with the back of his knuckles, but it wasn't a kind gesture. It was power play. Piccolo's blood was going cold in his veins. It was another way of saying _I have you now._

"I'll let you know what to do when the time comes, dear boy." He drawled the last word.

Piccolo swallowed involuntarily. He hadn't even realised he had agreed until he realised he already had by default. The moment the Supreme Kai had brought him here. They had to cooperate, what other choice did he have?

Piccolo watched his father smirk and inhale the tobacco oh his cigarette. The darkness in his veins could be seen through the skin at this distance and Piccolo wondered if he had paid some kind of otherworldly price for his power. He spared one last hateful glance at the other man and turned on his heel. _Manipulative bastard._

The rest of the afternoon passed by without much incident, everyone who could fight was training, and everyone who couldn't worried about those who could. Gohan realised however, to his absolute dismay, that Daimao had been missing for a good portion of it. The man had threatened both of his parents in the space of an hour and didn't even have the decency to stick around to face the consequences. It was only when the sun began to set, leaving an eerie twilight in its place, that he had returned. From where, Gohan had no idea, He also didn't know where Piccolo was, as the taller man had stormed into the palace to 'meditate' and had kept his chi low ever since. The demi Saiyan was quickly losing his patience. He watched as Daimao touched down and Gohan glanced towards the palace's dark entrance. _For fuck's sake Piccolo, stop sulking._

He stood and watched the training. Time was ticking by faster than he liked and he looked at his watch, 22:30. Gohan wondered what he might be doing if he wasn't in this ridiculous mess. Abruptly, he was drawn out of his musings when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. He spun on his heel, bracing for a fight. Piccolo smirked at Gohan's reaction.

"You shouldn't let your guard down."

Gohan's reply was flat. " _You_ shouldn't deliberately keep your chi down."

"I needed some time to think."

Gohan spared him a knowing glance.

"What did he say to you exactly?" _And don't brush me off Piccolo, I mean it._

Piccolo crossed his arms and the brief playfulness was gone as quickly as it had arrived. The sternness returned.

"He said that we don't have a chance. That the Supreme Kai sent them here so the creature could consume them, hoping that there's enough evil in them to poison it."

This surprised Gohan, who's brown eyes widened in response, but Piccolo didn't wait for the younger man to digest the information.

"He's lying."

Gohan frowned. "How do you know that?"

"If there's one thing that I know about my Sire, it's that he has absolutely not intention of dying. That man's obsession with living and dreaming up ways of living forever is borderline OCD. If he thought for one minute that it would simply consume him, he wouldn't be here at all."

"Then why would he…" Gohan trailed off as something occurred to him "you don't think he wants to control it or something?"

Piccolo didn't know the answer. He was logical thinker, a strategist even, but a criminal psychologist he was not. He relied on Gohan to think in webs. Memories swirling about in the back of his mind reminded him that he had more insight into his Sire than anyone else, and he was the one qualified, but he ignored it. Their discussion was interrupted by a sauntering Zak, who was sporting several cuts and scrapes as a result of his recent spar with Vegeta, Eighteen, Krillin and Tien.

"He couldn't control it even if he wanted to." His voice lulled up and down in emotion.

Gohan frowned, was he a member of the only species here _without_ extra sensitive hearing? Piccolo was also irritated, clearly he hadn't counted on it either. His irritation grew when the man's thick dark hair smelled of something spicy and was heady with sweat. It stirred some sort of long lost thought within Piccolo but he tried to dismiss it, he didn't have time to analyse feelings of...he didn't know what. The mercenary motioned towards him as he spoke.

"You're just like him you know, when he was younger"

Piccolo's frown grew ever deeper whilst Gohan couldn't contain his curiosity or his anger at Piccolo being compared to Daimao. His tone came out rather contradictory as a result.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Zak smiled, flashing off white teeth against tan skin and a few scars were now evident up close. The way he looked at Piccolo made his blood heat.

"He wasn't always so...well. Actually, when I first met him, he cursed at me for walking into him on the street, calling me rude or some such"

"Don't compare me to that asshole." Piccolo's tone was venomous.

Gohan realised then that he wasn't really talking about Daimao, he was talking about the original Piccolo, before he split into two halves. He chose to enlighten Zak of this.

"He doesn't exist anymore. That Namek split himself into two halves, one good and one evil, Daimao obviously being the evil half."

This news didn't seem to bother Zak in the slightest.

"Still just as cocky, two halves or not."

His attention wandered as Dende walked over and addressed Gohan tiredly and anxiously.

"I think we're calling it a night. You're all welcome to stay here until...you know."

Gohan smiled at his smaller friend, knowing the weight of the burden that he must feel.

"Thanks Dende, we'll come inside."

The mercenary trailed behind them as they followed Dende. Piccolo was already completely sick and tired of the presence of these unwelcome guests. He thought of all the fights they had fought and won, and at great cost, and now here they were. _Four bandits and a demon to the rescue._ Eventually, most had gathered in the conference room, or what served as one anyway. The younger children were already asleep and most of the adults were sat, exhausted, covered in cuts and bruises. It was almost midnight and the training had gone on for as long as anyone could bear. Mr Popo set about assigning each family a room, leaving the mercenaries, Daimao and Piccolo to sleep in the conference room. Gohan volunteered to stay with Piccolo, knowing all too well that the taller man would need backup if things started get out of control. The old genie returned with some bedrolls and blankets, before bidding them good night with a bow.

Gohan kicked off his shoes and sat down on his bed, jeans pulling taught against his thighs as he crossed his legs. The bandits were at the other side of the grand room, saying the odd word whilst they prepared to sleep. They filed out of the room one after another and Gohan noted that they were oddly organised. Piccolo had been standing behind his student, back against the wall with eyes closed, but once Gohan had sat down, the Namek joined him. Gohan couldn't help but be aware when his mentor sat down only a few inches away, knees almost touching. He sat staring at the occupants at the other side of the room and Gohan could sense, rather than see, that the other man was distressed. That in itself was unusual and hard to detect, but Gohan had learned Piccolo's language. He placed his lightly tanned hand on his mentor's knee and squeezed. Reassurance.

Mr Popo had lit a few old lamps, but the soft light did little to penetrate the darkness and Gohan struggled to see where Daimao was and more importantly, what he was up to. Instead, he could hear the soft, falsely kind tones of the blonde mercenary as he spoke to the woman, laughing heartily at one of her jokes. Blonde hair caught the soft light as he untied the laces on his boots whilst he spoke. Gohan had managed to over hear that his name was Seema. His strange sunny disposition didn't sit right and Gohan wondered if he slaughtered with a smile on his face. The thought made him cringe.

Piccolo stood after a couple of silent minutes and removed his cape and turban, uncharacteristically placing, rather than throwing, them on the floor. He rolled out his own bed beside Gohan's, though he had absolutely no intention of sleeping. Removing his shoes, he considered meditating but decided against it, his mind was a whirlwind and he'd long since tired of trying to calm it. He looked up as he heard Goku and Krillin enter the room, casting weary glances to their guests before sitting before Gohan. Piccolo had no interest in staying for any sort of chit chat, relevant or not, and used their arrival as an opportunity to leave.

The halls of the Lookout were vast, white polished stone lined with intricate carvings too ancient to understand. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the cold floor against his feet as he moved. Eventually, he reached his destination and turned into a large bathroom, locking the door firmly behind him. He rarely allowed himself the luxury of bathing, prefering to submit his body to the harsh barrage of the waterfall, but he needed to be clean. The closeness of his Sire had left him feeling infected.

The words 'on one condition' rolled around in his head as he unwound his sash and removed his shirt. His muscles were unbearably tense as he undressed and he rolled his shoulders in an attempt to loosen up. The water of the round bath was already hot, as it was always replenished with water, like most of the bathrooms in the palace. Maybe the result of some magic spell, he couldn't be sure. Kami's memories were sometimes too vague for him to pick them out. He stepped in and sunk slowly until he was chest deep. The sensation was alarmingly pleasant and he let the heat consume him. His arm was sore where his Sire had grabbed it and he rubbed it absently as it panged against the warmth. He noted, with some inappropriate amusement and relief, that Daimao had only pierced his pink body armour. Deliberate? Some Namekian influence that stood the test of time perhaps. _Probably not._

The water stayed at the same level, and he could smell the soft, gentle floral aroma of salts and he wondered if it was Mr Popo's doing. Twenty minutes passed before he was disrupted and he scowled when he heard footfalls coming down the corridor. He imagined what it must be like to be human, how many more minutes he would be blissfully unaware for. How many minutes that would add up to over a Namekian lifetime. He shook his head, not liking the odd turn his thoughts were taking. He cocked his long ear, listening as the steps came nearer, padding rhythmically. He turned to look at the door. They stopped, just outside. He waited with furrowed brows, sitting up in the water. He strained to hear what the person was doing, but all his pointed ears picked up was the gentle pour of moving water. Piccolo watched the door handle but saw little, the room was still dark with the same useless soft lamps lining the room in what he could only surmise was some futile attempt to create atmosphere. The silence rolled on, the other person apparently just waiting on the other side of the door. He began to wonder if he had imagined the noise and turned his head away, choosing to ignore whomever dared to interrupt him. There were other bathrooms in the large palace.

He looked straight ahead and leaned his head back, blinking the lamp's echo out of his eyes. He blinked a few more times but his vision righted itself and he froze.

In the water, leaning against the other side, lifelessly sitting there, was a human. Slamming backwards into the marble bath, he grunted as his shoulder blades cracked against the stone. The displaced water immediately rushed and pushed him forward in a wave, he swallowed a salty mouthful as it surged unpleasantly up his nose. His fingers slipped on the side of the bath as he scrambled for purchase. The figure simply sat there and stared, deep empty eyes boring into his own. He ground talons into stone as he righted himself and forced his whirring brain to slow down. The water still rippled and he tried to focus the loud sound of his own breathing. He prepared himself for a fight but it didn't move. And to his distaste, he didn't move either.

He stared at the dilated dark pupils, dead as the flesh on its bones, as they drilled into his own. They bore so deep and Piccolo couldn't fathom how or why, but he couldn't tear his face away.

That was until he recognised those big lifeless eyes, and the realisation made his throat close up. _No._

It made a sound. Piccolo tried to push himself further back. He wished then, that he really didn't have that sensitive hearing, when it let out an unearthly low moan. He watched in unwanted rapture as it's eyes came to life, but they were still dead.

And it jerked forward.

 **Until next time**


	4. Way down we go

**The Slow Burn**

Thank you for the reviews and encouragement! I hope the re-write doesn't disappoint, and for those of you who read ahead or read the original story, after chapter 5 will be the continuation.

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z

 **Chapter 4**

 **Way Down We Go**

Piccolo rammed back as far as he could when the creature moved, before it stilled again. The thing in front of him was bleeding into the water and he felt his skin constrict as the dark substance snaked towards him. This, whatever it was, used to be human once, he was certain of it. He had seen those eyes before, only then, they had been a vivid green, sparking in defiance even as he was dealt his death blow. He wrinkled his nose as the stench of old blood and rot reached his nostrils and he felt bile biting at the back of his throat. It started wading again, quickly this time and the Namek swallowed another undignified groan. Its fingers brushed him and he made a frantic effort to get out of the water but it grabbed onto him with its bony grip, its decaying flesh rubbing against its own. He splashed water into his own face as he thrashed, but it wouldn't let go. It was so close now. His thoughts recoiled in a desperate search for logic; this was impossible. This boy, if that's it was, had died at the hands of his Sire years ago. The very potent memory had come crashing to the forefront of his mind.

He could barely hear his own shouting as the young man's soft nails dug into his forearms. He was shoved under the water again and the hot liquid rammed up into his nose as he went under, he was panicking but he didn't care. He thrashed again, but this time the dead eyes staring down at him had turned into a kind of chestnut and he hesitated, shaking the water from his face. The hands gripped onto him were still tight but suddenly, they were gentle, solid and most importantly, warm. He coughed and blinked, finding himself utterly confused at the person before him.

Gohan's wide concerned eyes peered at him, only inches from his face. He stilled, breathing heavily, and stared down at the demi Saiyan's tanned hands where they held him. Gohan's soaked shirt clung to taut arms as he knelt in the water in front of Piccolo, hair curling where the water had caught it. He looked at his mentor, who was flushed purple and trembling faintly under his fingers. Not once had he seen Piccolo so dishevelled, so undone. _What on earth is going on?_

Gohan's features betrayed his concern and when Piccolo recognised the look, he composed himself with remarkable speed and effort. Taking a quick look around the room, he reluctantly registered Goku, Krillin and Dende. That same concern lay heavy in their eyes as the stood there, uncertain and worried. He belatedly realised that he was naked, now even more exposed since he had successfully emptied a third of the bath water in his exertions. His right foot was still braced against Gohan's thigh and he withdrew both his legs, drawing them towards his chest in modesty. Gohan loosened his grip then, rubbing the Namek's arms as he did, in an attempt at reassurance.

He had ventured into the hall to speak with his father and Krillin when he had first heard Piccolo. The sounds of shouting and choking met him as he kicked the bathroom door open, and he ran to the large bath where his mentor was being attacked. Piccolo had been thrashing and kicking at something in the half lit darkness and Gohan had practically dived into the water to protect him. He had looked on, stricken, as Piccolo struggled and swallowed water as he shouted for him to stop. But there was no one else there. He then found himself being subject to an onslaught of a very violent Namek before he got a firm hold of Piccolo's arms. It had taken maybe a minute for Piccolo to recognise Gohan and the look in his eyes was disbelief. Piccolo had been frantically fighting the air, defending himself from some imaginary assailant.

Gohan glanced at his father and nodded, a silent request for privacy. Goku left the room, closely followed by Krillin and Dende, both of whom were asking half a question as the door closed. He turned his head back to Piccolo, with big brown imploring eyes. The dark ruby depths of Piccolo's were unreadable now.

"Are you okay?"

The Namek had never felt so absolutely ridiculous. It made him angry, quickly, and he growled out his response.

"I'm fine"

Gohan raised an eyebrow and inched forward on his knees. The bath was slowly replenishing and the water sloshed in a ripple as he moved. The sound of it's gentle flow and the soft scents were a contrast to the scene he had initially come across. Gohan placed his hands firmly on Piccolo's shoulders.

"What happened?"

Piccolo's didn't answer. His own mind was spiralling as he tried to work out if the boy really had been there, or if his imagination had slurred into his waking mind. He had confused his Sire's memories with reality before, as a child. But to this extent? No, this was new. The silence continued and Gohan sighed, he knew Piccolo would be unlikely to speak another word if he pressed on. He stood and climbed over the edge of the tub. The water poured onto the floor from his clothes before slowing to a drip and he kept one eye on his mentor as he took his shirt off. Piccolo remained, knees still drawn up against his chest. It made something clamp down in Gohan's stomach. He grabbed a towel and gestured to his friend.

"Come on"

Piccolo scowled. He resented being handled with kid gloves and following orders even more so, but he would over look it this time just to be rid of that room. His former student averted his gaze and listened for Piccolo standing before handing the other man the towel. When he didn't take it, Gohan turned around, all pretense of modesty now forgotten, and wrapped the towel around the Namek's shoulders. Of course, he didn't think the other man had ever actually used a towel before. He would have chuckled at Piccolo's growl at being manhandled if he wasn't so consumed with worry. Piccolo stalked away from Gohan to the other side of the room to fetch his clothes. He dried himself awkwardly and dressed quickly, secretly grateful that the other man had stuck around for the time being. This room made his bones itch. They both left, but Gohan pulled the Namek into one of the rooms lining the hall. It was a single bedroom, small, tidy and clean.

Piccolo frowned, of course Mr Popo could have supplied the visitors with rooms, but had chosen not to. _Better to keep an eye on them I suppose._

Gohan sat down on the small bed whilst his companion stood in the doorway with arms crossed, his mind a whirlpool of rarely felt anxiety. The half Saiyan patted on the bed and Piccolo wrinkled his nose, before acquiescing and sitting down. His actions reeked of reluctance and Gohan knew it. Piccolo's moment of vulnerability, if that's what it was, had passed and now he would be an impenetrable brick wall with a bad attitude.

"I need to know what happened"

The Namek pushed himself back and sat against the wall, feeling a little less like a giant stick insect perched on a the edge of a leaf. Flashes of green eyes, one set bright and alive, the other empty and dead, stole his thoughts as he replied.

"There was a boy"

Gohan knitted his brows but waited for Piccolo to continue.

"He attacked me." He didn't want to go into detail, but he knew the other man would press for it, and probably with good reason.

"There was no one else there when I came in. Did you get a good look? Was it...one of Zak's mercenaries? Or one of Daimao's...creatures?"

Piccolo shook his head. "No."

Gohan's expression became stern and he was glad Piccolo was leaning against the wall behind him. _I know that son of a bitch has something to do with it._ He said nothing as the Namek continued.

"He was angry and he was choking me, or trying to." He didn't elaborate any more, Gohan didn't need to know that the boy's flesh was rotting and its blood was more black than red.

Gohan spoke then, voice too careful for Piccolo's liking.

"When I came in, you fought me...Is it possible that it was somehow Daimao. A trick?"

Piccolo frowned, the boy was from his Sire's past yes, but beyond that... _No. That's not it._

"No, it was real." Now he just felt utterly stupid. Of course it wasn't real, the boy was long dead.

Gohan turned around and looked at Piccolo with a concern that was really starting to piss him off.

"It's okay. We'll get to the bottom of this"

Gohan's voice was soft and clear. His eyes though, those brown depths said something else and Piccolo felt cold crawl up his spine as he read the words there. _I don't believe you._

They had both returned to the conference room. Though by that time most were asleep, or doing a pretty good job of faking it. No one would be getting any real rest tonight. Gohan cast a glance around the room and swore under his breath at Daimao's absence. He followed Piccolo to the bed rolls, stripped to his boxers and slid under the covers. Piccolo remained stood, he had known his Sire wasn't here before he had even walked in the room and he couldn't work out if he was bothered or relieved. He inhaled deeply and wondered if he should meditate but the thought of the boy's sickly, pallid dead skin made him reconsider. Strangely, his dreams were often more forgiving than when he dove into meditation. He removed his gi top, letting it fall to the floor as he laid down on top of the sheets. He laid there for a moment in the chill of the air before deciding to go beneath the sheets. Maybe it was the sensation of being watched. Gohan offered him a tight lipped smile, but it did little to ease him as they tried to sleep among murderers. _You were like them once._

His mind's voice reminded him.

It was hours before Piccolo finally succumbed to sleep, exhaustion warring with paranoia up until that point. Gohan figured it was the after effect of the adrenaline and he relaxed to the sound of his steady breathing, though they would both sleep lightly A part of them remaining aware of the danger they were in. He took some solace that Dende had agreed to keep watch overnight, but it was superficial. He watched as Piccolo drifted off, his muscles relaxing as the strain in his clenched jaw gave way to sleep. His mentor suddenly looked so much younger, gentle and calm in the barely useful light of one of the wall lamps.

Two more hours crawled by in the dead of night and Piccolo rolled onto his side, one limp hand falling in front of his face. Daimao stood a couple of feet away, quietly contemplating his son. The dark eyes didn't betray any emotion, not that he had any wide scope of them, but they did catch the glimmer of the lamp's steady glow. He crossed his arms. Among other things, he now considered his offspring to be utterly stupid, allowing himself to fall asleep amongst Zak and his lot. Daimao was considered many things; evil, ruthless, psychotic, but Zak wasn't like himself, he wasn't black and white. Azaka was a snake. Even now, the mercenary lay awake, his species not needing sleep although he seemed to enjoy pretending otherwise. Daimao now had to stand here like some lowly guard in case the odd ball mercenary fucked up his plans.

He returned his gaze back to Piccolo and watched as the younger man's face contorted for a moment and his breath quickened. The sleeping Namek rolled onto his back and moved his arms feebly before settling down again. He mumbled something and Daimao's ears flickered to hear it, but he only caught two quiet words.

"Azaka, no"

The older Namek narrowed his eyes. A strange sensation pooled in his chest, though he had no idea what feeling it was. It had been so long since he had felt anything other than hatred that he couldn't identify it. His gaze drifted towards Azaka, who was lying ramrod straight, chest rising and falling in a calculated rhythm. At this distance, he wondered if the other man had heard it. He detested the mercenary, not because of his nature, but because the past he had long since forgotten was now thrust to the forefront of his mind. He scowled.

He remained standing between his offspring and the rest of the mercenaries until morning, well aware that most of the room's occupants were barely even asleep. Daimao didn't know Dende was watching through his mind's eye, and didn't see the suspicious look on the Guardian's face.

The sun hadn't risen, but the air began to feel like morning. Piccolo had woken long before he opened his eyes, and he lay listening to the hurried conversation from the other side of the room. He didn't catch a lot of it, but it was mostly casual talk of their plans once they left Earth. Either they intended to win, or they were going to leave before the Hatu ever had a chance to kill then. _Of course they're going to run, cowards._

The Z-senshi soon started to file into the room and as Piccolo looked out of the window, he could see that the sky was still tinkering on dawn. Mr Popo served up a spread of food for breakfast and it wasn't long before the Saiyans were upon the feast. Azaka and the other three mercenaries joined them, though they appeared to have normal appetites. Bulma sat down clumsily and poured herself some coffee. The scent of the brewed beans was so intense but for some reason the Namek liked it. Vegeta was sitting next to her and he watched as the man paused in his rampant eating for a moment to regard his wife, before sliding a hand onto her knee and squeezing it. Bulma's smile was significantly lack lustre. Piccolo looked away, it was personal and to be perfectly honest, disconcerting to see Vegeta show kindness.

The female mercenary also poured herself some coffee and turned to Goku to ask him a question.

"What's the plan for today?"

Her tone was laced in mockery and Gohan narrowed his eyes at it from his seat at the table. Piccolo then noticed that Videl was absent. _Perhaps she had gone home to spend time with her family._

Goku swallowed his food in surprise and turned to answer.

"We're going to fight in groups, four of us against the four of you"

She raised a thin eyebrow and continued.

"You think you will beat us." It was a statement, although the teasing tone was evident.

 _Actually, we were hoping you'd beat us._ It made him feel sick to even think it, and his appetite almost gave up on him. She took a small sip of the bitter liquid and let her grey eyes flicker to Piccolo, who was leaning against the wall behind where Gohan was seated.

"Aren't you going to join us Piccolo?"

His scowl was as resonating as his answer.

"No"

Gohan gave half a glance over his shoulder and decided to interrupt, he had a million questions to ask and no time at all.

"What's your name?"

She cradled the cup in long fingers as she enjoyed the rare attention. Her male companions were good colleagues, but they were poor company. Azaka just looked up, Seema was seated beside him with one hand in his blonde hair, tiredly drinking water.

"Toya." she gestured towards the blonde. "Seema, and that" she pointed to the end of the table where the stoic mercenary was eating "is Jan." He looked up for a moment at the mention of his name, only to go back to his breakfast as he ignored them once again.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Gohan's lie was as flawless as the small smile he punctuated it with.

Krillin and Eighteen were watching the exchange and now Chi-chi, Bulma and Vegeta had stopped eating for a moment to listen to the conversation. Goku continued to eat but had at least slowed down. Zak stood, his sand coloured shirt was rolled up to his elbows, revealing a tan marred with scars. Slowly, everyone started talking again and Mr Popo brought more food for the hungry Saiyans to devour. The gentle hum of conversation was pleasant, though entirely unfitting. Dende sat down to pour himself some tea, he looked exhausted, and sad. Piccolo felt something tug away inside and he supposed it must be something Nail left behind. At least the young Kami would be resting until the late afternoon, maybe some sleep will lift the burden for a short time at least.

Closing his eyes, his thoughts turned to the incident last night, and he was raking through the memory as the dark haired Mercenary came to stand beside him. Thoughts of wild panic and rotting flesh were now being pervaded by the scent of spice and power and...he blinked away the memory, if that's what it was. Zak's voice was confident but quiet.

"You're friends are being a little unrealistic. Don't you think?"

Piccolo opened his eyes but still didn't turn towards the other man. _Yes, completely and utterly out of their minds mad to trust you._

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, we have no intention of dying here so your planet can be spared. And I think you know that"

The Namek turned, though he had to stop himself from bristling at Zak's proximity.

"Then why are you still here?"

Zak leaned in, making Piccolo, in turn, lean out in displeasure. Goku's obsidian pupils were trained on the two of them and they flickered momentarily to Daimao, who was also watching. _Lurking._ The dark Namekian was seated for a change, with legs crossed, on a bench lining the wall. His broad shoulders were still stretching the black fabric of his shirt.The rest of the room seemed unaware.

"I can't decide if you know, or if you really are as ignorant as you're making out"

Piccolo knitted his brows and uncrossed his arms. He had forgone the cape and turban and was now regretting it.

"I have no idea what you're talking about"

Azaka laughed under his breath and deliberately brushed his hand against the Namek's, making the jade warrior flinch in reaction. His voice had far too much mirth.

"I can't _wait_ to fight you boy." Piccolo sneered as the criminal walked away. This vague sadist bullshit was getting on his nerves, and so was the term 'boy.' Daimao narrowed his eyes at the scene in front of him, the mercenary was all but crawling all over his son and irritatingly, amongst the human wittering, he couldn't hear their words. With an internal sigh, he returned to his musings. The entity would be here in two or three days and he only had a handful of hours to implement his plan. Unbeknownst to him, Zak was thinking the exact same thing.

Gohan was quietly regarding Daimao, watching old cogs work beneath smooth emerald skin. An ancient mind thinking through old tricks. The sensation of being attacked from all angles was too much to bear and he slammed his fork onto the table. It was uncharacteristic, but he didn't give it a moment's thought as he walked out of the room. It was almost 6 o'clock, and they needed to make a start. The Z-senshi quickly finished up and soon, most of the occupants of the room were making their way out onto the Lookout.

Piccolo walked slowly behind the rest, cape billowing with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. He glanced at the fighters, Goku, Vegeta, Goten and Trunks as they stared at the four mercenaries who were facing them. They had disarmed reluctantly and cast each other an unreadable glance. Piccolo stared down the middle of the lined up parties, with the far reach of the lightning sky a backdrop to the white tiled surface. He heard Gohan's voice as he explained some brief rules and resented it. It should be himself and Gohan lined up against those criminals, but he knew damn well that Gohan had put a grinding halt to that after the previous night's incident. Piccolo was knee deep in a disgusting combination of loathing relief when he noticed something on the other side of the fighters. Down the centre, just a few feet behind Goku and Zak, stood a man he didn't recognise. He could see the soft sparkle of light reflected from man's iris', see the dirt lying thick in the man's light hair. The dried blood as it lay like a layer of film over the soft tissue, where the skin had worn away. His heartbeat suddenly rammed against his ribs.

Piccolo risked a glance left and right, desperate for someone to see him, frantically looking for recognition. All eyes were glued to the fight that was about to take place before them. His breath quickened at the prospect of it being a delusion and he uncrossed his arms in exasperation and no small amount of concern. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the figure, which had begun to shuffle forward. Its eyes were glinting in an unearthly sort of pleasure and Piccolo swallowed, throat scraping.

Gohan had stopped talking and in his periphery, he had noticed his mentor's strange behaviour. Goku had taken over and so he turned to look pointedly at Piccolo. The look in the Namek's ebony eyes was far too similar to what he had seen the night before and he glanced towards the spot that fixated Piccolo so. But the expanse of the Lookout was clear, all he could see was white tile rolling into the horizon.

Piccolo's eyes met Gohan's and in just a moment, the Namek composed himself. When Piccolo looked back down the centre of the fighters, the creature was gone.

Daimao watched his son from underneath hooded eyes and smirked, the light casting shadows as he moved a high cheekbone. For so many years he had been without entertainment, he would readily admit that he was taking a perverse pleasure in watching the young Namek's psyche take a plunge into disparity.

 **Until next time! Nearly there now, I can't wait to get the re-write finish so I can get on with the rest of the story!**


End file.
